Chapter 8 #2
“I’m having a bit of the same problem myself.”
“No you’re not.”
“I am.”
“Your lady still came, though. I couldn’t convince mine to come.”
He clapped Gaston on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, middle brother.”
“So am I.” Gaston took a deep breath, then smiled. “I’m being ordered back. I report in two days. Maybe it’s for the best. Irene, I mean. She didn’t like it when I was deployed the last time. Now she can’t complain about me being gone.”
“I didn’t know. Have you told everyone else?”
Gaston nodded. “You’re the last. I told Mother this morning. She wants a family dinner before I go.”
They both winced at that. “How long will you be deployed this time?”
Gaston shrugged. “At least a year. So if you decide to marry that little darling, do plan it so I can be there.”
“We’re far from that.”
Gaston watched Genevieve for a few moments. “I don’t think so.” He gave him a grin, then wandered away to join the larger group.
They’d all done time in various armed services, even Agnes.
It was part of the duty of being a royal, and their father had insisted.
Gabriel had decided already that his children wouldn’t be forced.
He might ‘encourage’ the heir, whoever they were, to join for a time, but he wouldn’t insist on it.
This life had enough pressure after all; they didn’t need the added pressure of the military too.
Gabriel stepped forward, directing them gently as the highest social rank there. “Shall we sit down?”
They all sat down on plump pillows atop the large blankets, the couples seated next to each other.
Gabriel held Genevieve’s hand as she delicately sat down, the hem of her dress riding up slightly.
Agnes sat down between her and Gaston. Gabriel took off his jacket and sat down last, Ferdinand on his other side.
Genevieve narrowed her eyes at him, though her smile stayed in place.
“What?” he asked as he reached for a grape.
“You’re wearing short sleeves.”
He glanced down, then at his brothers, and back to her. “And?”
“I’ve never seen you wear them before.”
“Enjoying the view?” he teased.
“Don’t be silly.” She turned then as Agnes asked her a question, but he could tell she didn’t mind his clothing. He did have muscles he’d worked hard for; why shouldn’t she enjoy them?
The afternoon passed pleasant enough, though it wasn’t fully relaxing. Gaston still brooded occasionally, and Clotilde was clearly trying to insult Genevieve without being obvious about it, but Genevieve handled it with ease.
They took their time eating and drinking wine under the late afternoon sun. Only after dessert and tea did Gabriel stand and hold out a hand to Genevieve. “Shall we take a walk around the ruins? It’s not often we have the run of the place to ourselves.”
“Of course.” Genevieve took his hand, rising quickly and brushing off her dress lightly.
He gave his brothers a glare only they would recognize, one that clearly meant ‘don’t follow’, and he had no doubt he’d be teased about it later.
Slowly, he and Genevieve walked the rough dirt paths, and he tucked her arm in his. “Will you make it to the top in those shoes?”
“Unknown, but not likely I think.”
“Then we’ll take a little detour. Just a bit further. What did you think of my brothers?”
“I think they’re very like you.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Do you?”
“Is that so surprising? You look alike, you act alike, you even have the same habits.”
“Like what?”
“I shouldn’t say.”
“Please do.”
She bit her lip for a moment. “Well, you both get same defeated look in your eyes when you’re sad, or when you’re remembering something sad.”
“When was I sad?”
She glanced around but they were quite alone. “When you, er, visited me. I saw the same look on your face that Prince Gaston had.”
“You’re quite astute, did you know that?”
“It’s not a good thing. I have to be on full alert whenever I’m home because of my mother, and now I just naturally do it everywhere.”
He nodded, understanding. “They liked you. Gaston told me as much earlier.”
“He barely talked during lunch. I’m not one for gossip, but Princess Agnes mentioned that he and Miss Coren may have had a falling out.”
“It’s not like Agnes to be so…forthcoming.”
“She was worried.” At his look, she continued. “About him, I’m sure, but also she was worried I might have taken offense at his greeting. She was only trying to smooth things over. She knows I would never say anything to another.”
He nodded as they came upon a stone doorway. He let her go through first and ducked under it, as it was not tall enough for him. Then he pulled her against the wall. From here they would be hidden from view for the most part, until his siblings reached the top from the other path at any rate.
“You’ve been driving me crazy all day, you know. It wasn’t easy sitting on that fucking blanket hiding my arousal.”
She giggled and wrapped her hands around his neck. “That jacket of yours came in handy after all. I noticed you didn’t bring it on our walk though.”
He kissed her neck and down to her decolletage, while his hand slipped under the hem of her dress and slid up her thigh. “Why do you think I always ask you to precede me out of the room?”
She huffed a laugh. “Always using me, aren’t you?” Her hands slid down to his arms and teased the edge of his short sleeves.
“I hope not, my dear. Though I will admit that I can’t wait to worship this body one day.”
“You can’t fuck me against the ruins of a 12th century wall.”
He shifted one hand to her ass under the dress, and squatted. “Well, I could, but I won’t. You deserve better for your first time.”
Her eyes widened. “What are you doing? Get up! You’ll get your pants dirty and people will know what you were trying to do.”
He smirked. “Trying? I know how to balance on my feet, my pants won’t get dirty.”
She looked down at him, the emotions on her face shifting too fast for him to see from his vantage point. Eventually, her voice soft, she said. “Please get up.”
He stood up slowly, removing his hand from under her dress and resting it on her waist. “Talk to me.”
“You don’t care, do you?”
“About you? Of course I—”
“About what people think of me. You show up with dirty knees and you’ll get grins from your brothers. I’ll get something very different, I assure you.”
“My brothers wouldn’t shame you, and neither would Agnes. I don’t know the other ladies, but they’re both dating princes. They understand the silence that royal life requires.”
“That’s just it. I don’t want to live in silence. I do that all the time now, terrified I’ll say the wrong thing and set my mother off again.”
He pursed his lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how uncomfortable you were at lunch.”
“I’m a very good actor, Gabriel, but I do not want to spend the rest of my life as one. I’m not suited for it. I act all day in my house, I act every time I leave the house, and I’m just so…tired of it.”
“It’s not always acting. We don’t act when we’re together, do we? We’re honest with each other.”
She sighed. “Maybe, but that’s not much of a life.”
He sensed this was some kind of turning point, that if he didn’t convince her to try this with him, then he’d lose her forever. “If we married, you’d have more power than your mother.”
She nodded and shifted against the wall. “Maybe, but I’d never be rid of her. If I married some title-less man, I could leave my mother behind and never speak to her again. But I can’t do that if I married you, could I? I’d have to play nice with her for the rest of her life.”
As a man so used to having power, he rarely saw the downsides of it.
Yet, he could see them now through her eyes.
He was used to ‘putting up with’ so many people, but knowing he could order them out of the room if he wanted.
He never considered that there may be a case where he’d have to keep them in the room too.
His family were not like hers, after all; they genuinely cared for each other.
“I’d protect you, you know I would.”
She pushed him back. “Only until your interests were more important than mine. Until the country’s interests were more important.”
“I’m a future king. I have to consider the country even before myself.”
“I know, and I’m not blaming you for that, or for any of it. I’m not asking you to change. I’m asking you not to change me.”
She went through the stone door and started walking back.
He fleetingly wondered how many arguments this door had seen over the centuries, then followed.
“Everybody changes, even me. I never thought I’d enjoy arguing with anyone, for example, yet here we are.
I love our arguments as much as I love our talks and our passion. ”
She turned and threw her arms up in the air. “That’s just it. I need someone to fight for me, not get off on fighting with me.”
As she turned back around and continued walking, he was hit with another realization. She needed him to support her, to back her up and put her first.
Yet, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it. Not in his position. Still, he couldn’t let her walk away from him, leave him alone to brood like Gaston.
He caught up to her as they approached the picnic area again, which was now empty. He heard a woman’s laughter in the distance and glanced up the hill; he could see them making their way to the top. He waved away the servants and sat down, leaving them alone to continue the conversation.
She was eyeing the food on the table but with one hand to her stomach, he wasn’t sure if she was feeling ill or hungry. “Would you like something else?”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Because you aren’t feeling well?”
She shook her head. “Because my mother will get mad if I gain too much weight. She yells at me daily about it.”
He bit back the anger brewing in him. “I’m sorry for that, but you should know my mother would never say such a thing.”